Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
If he eats mayonnaise, he's not getting laid. End of story.
I told him to go down on me and when he did he started crying!! I asked him why and he said my vag looked just like his ex girlfriends!!!
There's a man in a pair of gray footie pajamas and a paper crown watching the kids at the playground. It was easier to tell who was a pedophile before Where the Wild Things Are came out.
I can totally hide my daquiri in my sling.
We need to start having rules for the weekends. Like no more downing 3 shots because we want to slut dance a little harder or because biggie just came on.
U handed him a box of flavored condoms, winked, and slurred, "grape juice is her favorite."
Hangover Status: I've been bedridden longer than that kid from The Secret Garden. It's not looking good.
i don't knpow whats goin on i think theyre sacrificeing me to th tequila gods
I'm trying to poop and took acid, this is going to end horrid or wonderful. Oh the amusement park, not the pooping.
I will show up on your front porch in a wet t shirt and some mac and cheese
I rewarded myself with Taco Bell tonight for going a full week without punching my roommates in the face or wishing bodily harm on them.
Apparently "Welcome to the Sin Cave" is not how I'm supposed to answer the door
Do not confuse my plans for being an adult though. I will ABSOLUTELY be practicing suturing, on my porch, while getting stoned.
reminiscing on last night: why the fuck did I feel the need to stand on chairs everytime we took a jello shot?
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